Delusions
by DoctorPerky
Summary: Every day, she drowns.


a/n; An extension of a scene from chapter 433 narrated from Ikumatsu's POV. Spoilers ahoy.

Gintama is owned by Sorachi-sensei.

Please, enjoy.

* * *

Human beings are strange in that they create delusions for themselves when placed in stressful situations. Our thoughts are the little bits of driftwood that we seek out when we're sinking, the hopes that keep us afloat in tempestuous waters. From basic, one-line white lies to elaborate tales spun from the looms of gods, these delusions have a point in common.

They look pretty.

And, consequently, they're painful.

-i.-

Bright morning light filtered through the shades of the window, falling upon my face. My eyes cracked open and found that the lady who had taken care of me all these years was asleep next to me.

Ms. Osono. A kind elderly lady.

I sighed and gave a warm, knowing smile. Fearing she might catch cold, I attempted to get up to retrieve a blanket for her. Unfortunately, I was unable to maintain my balance and was greeted by the floor soon after.

The commotion startled my caretaker into a wakeful state. She leaned over to see if everything was okay, which it was to my knowledge. But she saw differently.

"Lady Ikumatsu, a person in your condition should not be getting up."

Her admonishment hammered me in place, leaving me speechless.

I did not protest.

Normally such words wouldn't bother me, and I'd end up responding with a little laugh and a casual _nonsense, I'm fine_. But this time around, I couldn't bring myself to say that. I would only be lying to her and deluding myself.

I sat upright, lowering my head slightly, my gaze centered directly in front of me.

"Right. Sorry."

My head remained stationary, with only a glance out of the corners of my eyes to take note of her reaction. She matched my frown with one of her own in a tired and dejected expression. Silence lingered between us. My throbbing head didn't allow much focus for me to remember the time that passed, only the awkwardness that was present. One of us had to say something sooner or later, or else I would surely have cracked.

This pressure, unbearable, prompted the inevitable.

"Ms. Os-"

"Lady Ikumatsu."

I focused my attention on her, undivided and rapt, from the moment she uttered my name.

"...Lady Ikumatsu."

The other, teary-eyed and biting her lower lip, did not hesitate in bowing her head in a repentant manner.

"I... am so sorry, Lady Ikumatsu."

She strained in the delivery of her words; it's hard to breathe, much less speak, when you're choking on tears. The longer I watched her struggle, the deeper I became mired in those feelings too.

She hadn't talked much, yet my heart felt like a rock in my stomach with the weight of what she was saying.

I didn't want her to say any more.

I already knew.

"Please, Ms. Osono. You really don't need to apologize-"

"Your father-"

"-Is probably gone now. Because of me."

She raised her head, a confused look on her face. It was apparent that she had no knowledge of what had happened between us in those frigid waters. Or it could simply have been denial.

I would like to believe the former.

"Lady Ikumatsu, I feel I must say something, especially now that your mother is no longer with us."

_Why couldn't you have told me these things sooner_, I foolishly wondered that moment.

Things I already knew but was too scared to accept as truth.

My heart raced as the words rushed out of her mouth. Words that were laden with emotion, her tone increasingly apologetic. Her quivering voice told me she didn't want to convey this to me, and I'm sure she could tell I didn't want to hear it, either. If my heavy breathing and my face scrunched in a disgusted expression didn't express this, my next course of action surely did.

I threw myself backwards onto the futon, my head striking the pillow with a fair amount of force, and I tossed the blanket over me.

"Lady Ikumatsu!"

Hearing her voice cry out to me in that concerned tone did nothing to help fix my shattered spirit. I turned away from her and tried as hardest as I could to ignore all of her words.

"Lady Ikumatsu. I'm so sorry."

_Stop saying that_. I wished I could have said that to her. I wished I could have simply assured her that none of this mess was her fault.

"Lady Ikumatsu, I'm sure... you've been more than aware of this. For a while, even. I'm telling you this because you deserve to know. I can't just leave this in the air between us. Your mother... She wouldn't have wanted this."

_If she didn't want this, why did she deceive me to begin with? _I really wanted to scream this so badly in her face. Instead, I let the weight of those unspoken words sit atop my heart.

So heavy. It was hardly any different than drowning.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. It might have been childish of me to pretend to be asleep, but it was the only way I could escape her talking about this. I couldn't bear it.

The only confirmation I had of her leaving the room was in the sound of her footsteps rhythmically pattering across the floorboards, accompanied with the rustle of the door as it slid open.

A pause occurred between the moment the door slid open and when it clicked shut. I'm not certain what she was doing, what her intentions were in her loitering. Perhaps there was more to be said, but perhaps also she knew I wasn't ready to handle more.

How kind she was to further spare me from this ugly truth, even after she had just completely wrecked me with it.

The kind elderly lady, Ms. Osono, left the room, leaving a grief-stricken me to seek out my delusions.

-ii.-

Life carried on. Each day was a challenge, but I managed.

If what I said to those kids was what I truly believed, I should be able to move on with my life.

Somehow, I wasn't even certain whether I was doing my best in living each day, one at a time.

Even if I was feeling more upset, even on the days I felt good and happy, there always sat within me that nagging thought of _is he really there_, along with many other questions for which I didn't have the answers.

_Did he really seek me out in those waters on that day?_

_If I had known it was him this entire time, could this situation have been prevented?_

_Was there something I could have done differently?_

_Why did Mom think it was best that I didn't know the truth?_

_Why did everyone think it was best to keep that hidden from me?_

The questions I was constantly faced with, this was the reality I carried with me.

I carried all of this on my own. Not out of being alone, but out of being lonely. Even with all of the kind people that came through the shop, I kept my true feelings guarded. I tricked myself into believing that I could be happy with convincing myself that everything happened for a reason.

Yet, this reality was just an ugly existence to have to be burdened with.

I hated myself for it.

-iii.-

That day of the year came again.

With a spring in his step, a certain long-haired idiot wandered into the shop. He approached the counter and spoke so casually as if nothing had happened between us.

We both knew that wasn't the case, however.

It was on this certain day that I would prepare a bowl of ramen, having it ready for a person who would never return to accept it.

I set it down on the counter in front of that man, who promptly spoke up in protest.

"Ikumatsu-dono, I believe I ordered soba."

_If only you knew._

"Oh? Men shouldn't speak of trivial matters. When are you going to cut that hair of yours?"

But, it wasn't a trivial matter, and I also wanted to talk about it.

I wanted to talk about it so badly, in fact.

Instead of putting up a guarded stance, as I'd expected of him, he calmly gave his response.

"I don't think hair has much to do with this."

_No, it doesn't. You're absolutely right on this one_.

He was far more correct than I could ever give him credit. My denial of his being correct was simply prolonging that illusion. I turned and faced away from him. After all, he didn't need to see my lying face.

That man continued. "Still thinking you owe Gintoki and the others for what they did for you?"

Passing a wet towel over a clean dish, I took a deep breath and calmly stated, "Honestly, what is their deal? They couldn't just come around here and at least let me treat them?"

His was a clever retort. "I don't think anyone would want to be treated by someone with such a sad expression."

_Of course not._

In that moment, all I simply wanted to do was to break. He was right. He was always right. I couldn't even deal with myself, so how would I have expected myself to deal with anyone else, much less to make them happy? Faking my happiness, my sanity, wasn't helping matters.

I surrendered. I didn't wish to go along with this delusion anymore.

I am not okay.

I never was.

My hands trembled as I set the dish on the counter.

"Just take it." My voice cracked, my words sounding feeble and without conviction.

"Not a single family member I could share this with, who would even want to have this. Just take it."

My final words to that long-haired idiot.

I was confused and deluded and nothing could have saved me from what I was feeling in that moment. If everyone had been lying to me this whole time, when would I have realized I had also been perpetuating those lies? If I hadn't realized it that day, when would I have realized I've been lying to myself this whole time? Those delusions were a double-edged sword of sorts. Lies, though pleasant, were also hurtful. Little did I know that there really was a point where humans break from the hurt of such deceit.

I've gone far past that point.

And the worst part of this is that it had to happen in front of him, the most questionable idiot of them all.

The response I'd receive from him was not one I'd have expected.

"I'll be back." He said this, distancing himself from me. "If there's ever a time you wish to recover what you lost, come talk to me."

_What I'd lost?_

I didn't get much of a chance to respond to his offer. Just as he passed through the threshold, another man entered.

Unexpected, inexplicable.

It caught me so off-guard that my capability to properly express my feelings in words vanished. Not that I was very effective at that to begin with.

Frozen, awestruck, confused, I simply stared at him. When I realized I was probably committing the rudest act I've possibly committed in my entire adult life, I shook my head, gasped a little, and rushed toward him without a second thought. I did not dare question this man's presence. Such questioning wasn't warranted.

He was there, he was real.

The culmination of everything I thought and felt flooded from me the moment I knelt at his side and threw my arms around him. I paid no attention to just how quickly my face, buried in the reassuring warmth of his side, was dampened in a layer of tears. It didn't even matter that my bangs clung to my face.

There was nothing else in the world that mattered. I just wanted to be honest for once.

After all, I owe it to that long-haired idiot for allowing this to happen.

Even when I had sunk so low and drowned so far under the weight of my lies and feelings, that man found that I was still worthy of being saved.


End file.
